


Spacemen

by Senor_Sparklefingers



Category: Assassin's Creed, Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senor_Sparklefingers/pseuds/Senor_Sparklefingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually — from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint — it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly…timey-wimey…stuff.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On August 8th, 2012, Subject 16 killed himself while being held at the Abstergo Industries headquarters in Italy.</p>
<p>This is not a story about his death. This is not a story about the end.</p>
<p>This is a story about what happened afterwards. This is a beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spacemen

_“And then we got up and marked our favorite jobs on the board. I’m going to be an astronaut, Dad!”_

_His father smiled at that, laughing as he turned to his wife. “Did you hear your son? The kid wants to be a spaceman!” His mother nodded, smiling softly as she got up to clear the table, stopping to ruffle Clay’s hair as she did so._  
  
“Well, even spacemen need to get some sleep, Clay.”  
  
“Aw, Mom…”

_“Better listen to your mother, son. Go get ready for bed. We’ll be up in a minute to tell you a story, okay?”_

_Clay pouted for a moment before nodding, pushing away from the table, heading upstairs to get his pajamas on._

_“Hey, Dad? Can you tell me a space story tonight?”_

_His father chuckled and nodded, smiling at the way his son’s face lit up._

_“But you need to get ready for bed first.”_

_That night, his father told him a story about the stars, about the moon and how mankind landed there, about Mars and whether or not life was there, about planets beyond their solar system and aliens, and all the things that made space travel possible. His father wasn’t always the best storyteller, and he got caught up in the technical details a few times too many for it to really be considered a story, but Clay didn’t care._

_Tomorrow, his father would take him into work, trying to get him interested in constructed, in the family business that he would someday be a part of. Tomorrow, there would be no time to think about being an astronaut._

_But tonight…_

_Tonight, Clay dreamed of the stars._

—————

“Where the  _hell_ is he?”

To say that Warren Vidic was furious was an understatement. He was absolutely livid. First, there had been a reported security breach in the area where they were holding Subject 16 the night before, and now this…

There was blood everywhere. On the floors, on the walls…the Animus was drenched in it (and if that damn thing didn’t work after this,  _somebody_ was going to pay).  There were symbols drawn everywhere, staining the floor and the walls of 16’s holding cell.

And Subject 16 was nowhere to be found.

It was impossible. They had guards posted at the locked doors every night. The room was under constant surveillance. The only way out was through the windows, and they were untouched and unbroken. Even if he had tried to jump, they would have seen what was left of him on the ground in front of Abstergo HQ.

Even if, somehow, he  _had_  managed to escape, he wouldn’t have gotten very far. He’d lost too much blood.

So where the hell was he?

Vidic took a quick glance around the room before taking a deep breath. God damn it.  Wherever he was, he’d managed to make quite a mess before getting away.

He turned around to face the security guards that had come into the room with him, glaring at them.

“Don’t just stand there! You, get a cleanup crew up here immediately! You,  go review the security footage from last night! I need to figure out what happened here.”

The two guards that had followed him nodded quickly before running off, leaving Vidic alone with his thoughts.

Damn him. In the course of one evening, Subject 16 had most likely destroyed a vital piece of their equipment while also taking out an incredibly valuable asset they needed in their hunt for another working Apple of Eden. They had been hunting for their Subject 17 for a while now, but they would have to speed up their search, they couldn’t afford the luxury of time and caution anymore, not with the satellite launching in a few months.  They’d have to fix whatever damage 16 had done to the Animus, clean up the mess he had made before they could acquire Desmond Miles…

Because of Subject 16, they were now wasting time and resources they couldn’t afford to waste.

If 16 wasn’t dead when they located him, Vidic was going to make him wish he was.

“…Sir?”

Vidic turned around to face a breathless guard.  
  
“Yes, what is it? I thought I told you to review the security footage!”

“Yes sir…I did, but…”

“But  _what_?”

“There’s…there’s something…at the end of the footage…you need to see.”

“…this had better be good.”

—————

“Play it again.”

The guard looked nervously at Warren Vidic. This was the third time his boss had asked him to play the footage, and while he understood the man was under a lot of stress, given last night’s…incident…he couldn’t understand why he wanted to see the footage again.

“But, sir—”

“I said. Play. It.  _AGAIN._ ”

The guard nodded quietly, rewinding the footage and starting it from the beginning.

It wasn’t interesting, at least not at first. 16, no matter how crazy he may have become, at least had the forethought to loop security footage. It wasn’t until near the end of the footage that things became…interesting.

The looped footage ended abruptly, cutting to 16 bleeding out on the floor next to the Animus. The image held for a few moments before a strange noise, like a loud rush of air, came from off camera. The man who rushed into frame appeared to be in his twenties, wearing a tweed jacket and a bowtie. He took one look at Subject 16 before picking him up and rushing off camera once again. For a minute, nothing seemed to happen. Then, the man in the bowtie walked back into frame, eyes tired, jacket covered in blood. He ran his hand over the Animus, before looking up, staring directly at the camera.

He looked young…but those eyes…

Those eyes looked ancient.

Not looking away from the security camera, the man pulled something out of his pocket, pointing it at the camera, pushing a button. A bright green light and a high pitched noise came from the device, and the security footage cut to static.

Vidic had watched the footage three times now, as had the security guard with him. The guard still didn’t know what this meant, didn’t understand what had happened the night before.

But Vidic understood.

“Has anybody else seen this footage?”

“Er…no, sir.”

“Good. Destroy it.”

The guard’s eyes widened at that.

“Sir, wh…?”

“I said destroy the footage. Find a body; make it look like 16, dump it in the Tiber. As far as we’re concerned, he’s dead.”

The guard didn’t understand. Why did Vidic want this footage destroyed? If something had happened to Subject 16, something that put all their research into genetic memories at risk, the higher ups needed to know about it!

“Sir, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will. Or the next body going into the Tiber will be yours.”

Gulping, the guard nodded, taking the footage to dispose of it properly, rushing out of the room, leaving Vidic alone with his thoughts.

Vidic sighed, suddenly feeling very tired and very irritated. Of course. Of course  _he’d_  been involved in this somehow. Now, they had to deal with both the Assassins and _him_  interfering with their work.  The Assassins, they could take care of with relatively little trouble, but  _him._..

He had some phone calls to make. 

—————

_“Help Desmond Miles.”_

_He was too far gone now. He knew there was no escape for him, that there was no turning back._

_But he was an Assassin. He was resourceful, and once upon a time, he was clever. He could leave clues, hide the truth inside the machine, and protect the mind of the subject after him._

_He could still help Desmond Miles._

_His work was almost done now. The ghosts of his art would linger long after the blood had faded away, the glyphs hidden in the Animus would guide Desmond, and he would be there. He would keep him safe._

_The upload was almost complete…then he could rest…he could finally rest._

_‘Lucy…I can’t wait any longer…I’m ready to go…’_

_He slid off the machine just as the upload completed, falling onto the  floor, unable to feel the cool tiles beneath him as he bled out._

_‘The moon…I can see the stars…they’re so beautiful…’_

_Faintly, he heard a loud wooshing sound from the corner of the room, loud footsteps approaching him, strong arms lifting him up as he blacked out._

—————

As he slowly woke up, the first thing that Clay was aware of was how  _warm_  it was. He had vaguely remembered falling to the ground, going cold as he faded away…

He was supposed to be dead. He had slit his wrists with a goddamn  _pen_. There was no way they would have let him live, even on the very slim chance that he’d survived long enough for them to get help.

Why was he still alive?

As he tried to figure out what happened, Clay slowly realized that he was no longer in Abstergo. He was…

Where  _was_ he?

It looked like a typical bedroom, with nothing particularly special or out of the ordinary about it. He was in a real, proper bed, his wrists bandaged up, a tray of food on the end table next to him.

No.

No, no, this couldn’t be real. He was dying, bleeding out next the Animus, this was his mind, playing tricks  _again_ , not content to let him simply die in peace.

The room suddenly lurched, the tray of food falling to the floor. Suddenly, it didn’t matter how weak he felt, or how tired he was. It didn’t matter that he was supposed to be dead (how could he help Desmond now, he was broken, he was no use to him alive).

What mattered was figuring out what happened to him. Where he was. Who had kidnapped him this time, and for what purpose.

Slowly, Clay tried to stand up, holding on to the end table for support as he felt the world tilt again, knees giving out under him. He tried to reorient himself to the feeling of standing, before trying to walk towards the door of the room. After several unsuccessful attempts at keeping himself balanced, he finally made it to the door, opening it to reveal a long hallway, a light at the end.

Maybe he was dead after all. Maybe this was just the path to the end, to the light at the end of the tunnel, and getting there was his final test to prove he was worthy to move on.

Or maybe none of this was real. Maybe he’d wake up and he’d still be in Abstergo, still trapped in both body and mind.

Only one way to find out.

 

Slowly, unsteadily, Clay began to walk towards the light, unsure of what he’d find at the end.

He hoped whatever it was, it was worth it.

—————

“Ah, good! You’re awake, and ahead of schedule, too, excellent!”

Whatever he thought would be at the end, whatever he had been expecting…Clay was certain this was  _not_  it.

He stared in shock at the large room, filled with lights. There was a large console in the center, covered in a hodge podge of assorted electronics, and standing at the console was a man.

“Well, don’t just stand there! I imagine you’re still a bit light in the head, standing around like that isn’t going to make it better for you! Sit!”

Clay blinked, simply staring at the man. He looked young, dressed in a tweed suit, bowtie, and suspenders. The man grinned at Clay, walking over to him, and the closer he got, the stranger he appeared. His face was young, but his eyes were so old…looking at him made his head hurt, and he wasn’t sure why.

“…Who are you?”

The man blinked, before breaking out into another wide grin.

“I’m the Doctor! And you’re Clay Kaczmarek!”

Clay blinked slowly, confused. The Doctor…? Doctor who? Where were they? How did he know his name? How was Clay so certain that  _was_ his name, when he had been having so much trouble remembering himself these past weeks?

“I know you have questions, and I’ve got answers, but there’s time for all that business later. Right now, though…how would you like to see the stars, Clay?”

Clay blinked again, before slowly smiling, nodding.

He would see the stars.

—————

In one lifetime, Subject 16 died to help Desmond Miles.

In another, Clay Kaczmarek would live. He would help save Desmond Miles, and he would save the world.  They would see the stars, together.

But that is a story for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from Tumblr, because for some dumb reason I still really like this stupid little story. 
> 
> As for when this takes place in the Doctor Who timeline...er...not so sure. I think at some point after Series 7. Definitely after The Angels Take Manhattan, though (but no spoilers for that).  
> This may be part of a series...eventually...if I can figure out what happens next...


End file.
